


Comfort Crowd

by semipeaceful



Series: haikyuu x conan gray [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, also based on chapter 153.5, inspired by conan gray's comfort crowd, kind of?, oikawa learns he's not alone, post aoba johsai's loss to karasuno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semipeaceful/pseuds/semipeaceful
Summary: Oikawa Tooru is alone, crying, in a bathroom.Loosely based off Conan Gray's song Comfort Crowd.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro & Iwaizumi Hajime & Matsukawa Issei & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru
Series: haikyuu x conan gray [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753630
Kudos: 44





	Comfort Crowd

Oikawa was alone.

He was never supposed to be alone. At school, he was surrounded by throngs of admirers. On the court, he was accompanied by his teammates. Anytime else, he had Iwaizumi.

They were distractions from the duality of the ache in his knee and the little voice in his head that told him to work harder.

But, of course, when it mattered most, he was alone, because they’d lost.

They’d lost.

They’d lost, not to Shiratorizawa, not to Ushiwaka, but to Karasuno, to Tobio, to a murder of crows that had sprung from the concrete.

Post game, as his team cried and bowed and thanked the coaches, he’d managed to keep a straight face. He’d smiled. He’d thanked their supporters. He’d comforted his ace.

But now he was alone. Alone, in the bathroom, staring at his face, the sweaty and plastered brown locks, the bags from staying up too late the night before, the tears that were slowly making their way down his cheeks. Hating.

Maybe if he had stayed later after practice more often? His missed serves had cost them more than a few points; a couple more practice sessions and it might have been perfected. Or if he had run more receiving drills, maybe he could have stopped that last spike?

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

_Iwa-chan_

_The bus is here, do I need to find you and forcibly carry you to the bus?_

Yes. He did. Because Oikawa was _thinking_ and it was _hurting_ and dear lord he needed to ice his stupid knee.

_Shitty-kawa_

_Jeez, Iwa-chan! So violent~_

His text was half written out before he even realized what he was saying. _I’m not okay._ He deleted the text and started over.

_Shitty-kawa_

_I’m in the bathroom_

Chances were, he only had a few minutes before Hajime got worried and tracked him down, so he focused on getting himself together. Cold water to reduce the swelling on his eyes, cold water to calm his flaming cheeks, cold water because he didn’t deserve the warmth of the victory that came from a hard-fought match.

They’d chosen him to lead them past Karasuno, past Shiratorizawa, past nationals. They’d chosen him and trusted him and followed him and he had failed them.

He’d wiped away the last tear when the door slammed open. Iwaizumi, arms crossed, stood in the entryway. Iwaizumi was three centimeters shorter than Oikawa but in this moment his presence was so much _larger_ than Oikawa’s and Oikawa couldn’t find the energy to take up more space.

There was a furrow in Iwaizumi’s brow, the one that came from a deep-seated worry, but a stubborn need to hide the fondness.

“It’s okay to cry.”

“What are you talking about, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa tried for nonchalant, shrugging on his jacket, even as Iwaizumi glowered. “I’m fine.”

But he only had so much willpower. He’d looked at Iwaizumi’s face too long, and now the wave crashed back into him.

His ace. His ace. His favorite ace.

High school volleyball club was over. Over for him and his favorite ace.

The tears came back in a rush, and he crumpled over the sink before Iwaizumi surged forward, wrapping his arms around the captain. Supporting him. Protecting him.

Iwaizumi didn’t hug often. Physical displays of affection were left to slaps on the back, ruffling of kouhai’s hair, and high fives that left the recipient’s hand stinging. It was unfortunate, because Iwaizumi’s hugs were Oikawa favorites. Iwaizumi hugged like he did anything: confidently, trustingly, and whole-heartedly. It was grounding, but it did nothing to stop the waterfall that threatened the loss of Oikawa’s contacts.

“I’m fine,” he repeated.

Iwaizumi sighed with enough force that Oikawa felt it in his own chest. “Dumbass, you said that lie already.”

“The bus-”

“The bus can wait.”

So Oikawa cried, and he cried until his eyes dried up and his throat was scratchy. He cried until the shoulder he had cried into was damp and cool against his hot face. Oikawa sniffled. “I’m getting your shirt wet.”

“It’s fine.” Iwaizumi’s voice was rough, a little shaky around the edges, like he was pretending that he also hadn’t shed a few tears. “I like my shirt soggy.”

A sob turned into a laugh and Iwaizumi wiped away the last of Oikawa’s tears with his t-shirt and they walked to the bus together.

Oikawa didn’t remember anything from the bus ride home. Or the ramen after the bus ride. Or the walk from the ramen place to what was supposed to be home.

They were standing outside the gym.

Just the sight of the painted lines on the ground made Oikawa wince. Instinctively, the game played in his head. Every toss, every failed serve, every mistake. Maybe he should go home and go over the whole game again, take some notes on what to work on for any upcoming college tryouts, or maybe he should schedule some time to perfect his serve-

Then Iwaizumi slapped his back, and Matsukawa and Hanamaki were already setting up the net, and Yuda and Shido were rolling out the ball carts, and Sawauchi was tugging on his gym shoes.

It was chaotic and exhausting, there were only seven third years after all, but with every laugh and curse and _stop serving for real, Oikawa!_ something loosened inside him and he was grinning and he was happy and…

He wasn’t alone.

Oikawa smiled. He didn’t need to be alone. He didn’t need to be alone, because Iwaizumi was there to hit his toss and Matsukawa was there to try to block it and Hanamaki was there to say something snarky about Matsukawa’s failure to block it.

High school volleyball club was over, but the bonds with his teammates, the _friendships_ , were not.

They were his crowd. They were there to worry about his knee and to slap sense into him for acting too big-headed and to cry when he said something stupidly sentimental like _thank you for the last three years_ and to offer a shoulder to cry on in the bathroom after a disappointing loss.

They were there to comfort him.

His teammates. His friends. His comfort crowd.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyways y'all should listen to Comfort Crowd. This was NOT written because I just graduated and also quarantine and I miss hanging out with the friends that I saw everyday at theater, shut up.
> 
> Sidenote: I made a haikyuu tumblr, so follow me there or my main blog
> 
> Main: not-to-be-gay-but-holy-shit  
> Haikyuu: oikawa-tuwu


End file.
